November 22, 2016

Inner voices releasing, spirits sharing, tis the eve of the Giving of Thanks...

A Thanksgiving Chorus

<<::>>

Inner voices releasing, spirits sharing - the days of Giving of Thanks work their magic - a benevolent break in the sphere of happenings, triggering an outpouring and mingling of life-forces. Often hidden, separated and otherwise denied, these essential drivers of all we do, of virtual, ethereal and ghostly form, vital to all we really are, they are being released…

…with us eternally, the masterly spirits who are ever filling the spaces avoided by those who are withdrawn - all are now triggered to join in elevating chorus.

Uncertain and full of wonder are the workings of this other realm, the natural balance to the everyday.

Tis magic for the infinite aspects of unknown spirits of love and hate - the benevolent sprights now emerging in their everlasting quest to complete the Whole…

The human spirit on holiday, packed like cattle they all are around these two strangers, randomly joined and finally settled amid the strangeness of it all, now this!

Just met an hour ago, buried in the very middle of the chaos of the urgency to visit loved ones, enclosed by heightened spirits all around, their own off-on-off efforts to survive-celebrate-enjoy this Thanksgiving Eve venture are now jolted with all of the others…

<<::>>

In the neverland of minds freed from norm, they both were visited by the very haunts and torments that bother them in their beds.

By separate paths entirely, these two holiday venturers had arrived at similar critical points in their life journeys, as well as current location on this crowded car. Each in their own way have faced and embraced joys and sorrows far beyond any norm.

Further aligned at their core, having endured trials that would break most, both have boldly decided to make their own.

Struck by these new impulses, they braved to open eyes and found themselves in each other gaze - caught staring, frankly, into unmasked reflections of themselves, unaware what touch had turned them face to face - for surely some power greater must be responsible - scarily revealed, they know they share this thought - whew, we read each other, know each other - these, their notes of common voice are dancing openly about them...-

...focusing on each other as well as their shared extreme awareness, they are startled to recognize their own look in return.

With one spirit they struggled to deny their own barks and growls they had emitted as they had pushed and elbowed themselves into these precious seats.

With one spirit they longed to resume their other selves, to which they sweetly returned as soon as they drifted off, full of childhood wonder at the magic of this holiday, of this much needed venture - and sadly, the seemingly inevitable companion, yet another of their selves, those of lost ways.

Oh the wicked mix - such wily ghosts that visit - delights and frights - him/her too - always the extremes forced upon us as we finally let go - or coaxed out from within - they push back to upright, noting the same mood in each other - these same silent voices also being heard, together.

<<::>>

United and bound in close space and spirit, for the moment, but new surprises are happening - ooh - wee - with all separation of space and mood lifted, they brave knowing smiles, silently marking their shared enclosure and the frantic charge that had, but an hour ago, brought them, unmet, together - and now this new one!

Ooh my loves - these ones hear - they see, feel - close with us they are!

Already drifting back they are - recalling - revisiting…

Freed indeed we are - all us ghosts - flying now, fully charged and emboldened by our growing league - fleeting are our emergences - now there is genuine rarity and extreme precious opportunity!

“Hey, watch it!” he had yelled too harshly as she had plopped herself into the seat next to him, elbowing and butting him hard against the wall of the railcar.

“What do you expect - you raced me for these seats, and these others were closing in fast to cut me off,” she had responded, but also catching the harshness in her voice.

Both noted the simultaneous big, slow calming breaths as they took each other in, chests filling and easing - tense faces relaxing, gathering - silently reading each others’ mood of regret, both searching for something to ease them back into the holiday spirit.

Together they looked at the mob still cramming into the center aisle “hey look, up front - a cross between Darth and Clint - holding his position just inside the door, surveying with the darkness of one and grim sneer of the other.”

She laughed and pointed the other way, towards the rear of the car “see there, his opposite, like a wizard, like Gandalf, he even has a staff - the picture of gleeful serenity, working his way, touching and hugging into the middle of the crowd - he can’t get thru for for that old couple, they look frightened and unsteady - and for this bunch hovering over us.”

“We should offer our seats.” They looked again at each other, again reading the same thoughts - this time of regret of losing these hard-won seats - but both knowing it was the right thing to do.

As they started to rise and gesture - sharped-eyed and super alert, both Darth and Gandalf took note and asserted…

Darth - amusing them further with his child-like imitation of a cartoon superhero - but in another of their shared counter-thoughts, also chilling them with his unsteady stare - targeted a dark-skinned young couple noisily chattering in foreign tongue - barking in surprising rich tone “you too, please, speak English - and kindly give those seats to this lady and gentlemen.”

Gandalf evenly sung in sweet tones “Thank you so much for offering” gesturing with a kindly wave of his hand as he maneuvered closer “no, sit, you lovebirds enjoy yourselves for the trip,” turning to a group of berka-clad folks seated where he drew close “won’t you join me in the aisle - we’ll have a marvelous chat - and allow these other kind folks to rest…”

<<::>>

Matters settled, faces equally red, they shared full throated laughs.

“Lovebirds?!” “I guess we look that way” “Oh well; we feel better, don’t we?” “Much” and they gave each other gentle taps.

Quieting, calming, peacefully reflecting on how just moments ago they had been part of that mob as the train slowed to a stop, both of them successfully aligning themselves perfectly to be one of the first to enter from opposite ends as soon as the doors slid open.

<<::>>

The atmosphere had been abuzz on the platform as the magnificent shimmer of the train clanged towards them, vibrating with shared spirits, material and otherwise, collectively released and launched in a chorus of inner el voices as this crush of humanity, racing to destinations to give thanks, poised and on extreme edge to pour into the great form the moment she opened herself, their freed selves joining across an infinite range of soulful voices of strength and fragility - inviting in with them the full, vast realm of ghosts across all aspects…

All too rarely do they recognize us and our kin - we are their very life-force, for good and bad, driving, ultimately all they do - we are ghosts to them, unreal and mostly unmet, save for special settings like this - yes, the anonymity of this moment and this total break from what they know as norm will do this…

…thus the master spirits, the eternal elevated sprights, they launch their own missives into the throng already being released with the rush into the great carrier, hissing and gasping and clanking to a halt - it’s own break from it’s relentless course…

…from all walks they are joined in group - unwittingly and randomly mixed - some noting and others clueless to the shared spirit of urgency, frantic and crazed, carrying them all in mad convergence…

look my loves - let’s accompany those two - we sense something special about them -and they unknowingly already know us intimately, poised themselves to burst out in new growth of their vast potential - their elbows at the ready to hustle with the best of them, fully caught in the madness they are - but they are kin to us - aware they are of their state - far more than most - and bothered by their current craze, their weakness, their anger - yet with unrealized range they push themselves - they are truly the intrepids we seek, and need, in all ages - see them trying to calm and center yet failing at both, as yet strangers of shared fury - and determination to face and overcome - let’s aid them as they launch their own missives - in gentlefolk of such skill and range, our efforts are always warranted…

Thus the ancient ones added their voices to these two as they accompanied them into the train - naming them Snarly and Growly for the ugly missives they were emitting and the hurts they were cause all to suffer as they forced their way to the fore and down the center aisle from each end - converging upon this pair of seats from which they now look upon each other - recognizing, silently and powerfully their own inner selves in each other…

<<::>>

ooooh my loves, what a little honest sharing will do - we must add Lovebirds to their natural names - ever do our true names grow…

<<::>>

Snarly & Growler - Lovebirds - Intrepids - where do these notions come from? - look at us - look at this crazy mob - so many forces at play - we don’t even know our names - too crazed bother at first - such a nice state we are in now - our special space within it all…

On that edge between awake and not, strong and fragile, happily revealed and uncomfortably embarrassed - they shared a trance - musing - Breathes and scents pressing into their awakening consciences, grunts and groans much as their own moments ago, and with them other forces less tangible but unmistakeable for the effect upon them both - reminding them…

<<::>>

…With exaggerated false smiles they had been enclosed as they threw themselves into these seats - first one, then more of the onslaught wished both of them a derge of unfelt hearty good Thanksgiving’s as they pushed passed, not bothering to avoid bashing Snarly with their travel bags…

…feeling a common strength, a shared license to release, the last of this bunch, emboldened to flash his inner Glare, aiming it w all his might at Growler as he stopped directly over them, he leaned in hard as he struggled to put his open bag in the rack overhead, spilling contents on both them.

look how their demon spirits feed on each other as they spring out… they are not themselves, or are they? what shall we do? let them play out a bit - send in a few Stings and Touches to move them along…

Thus the eternal ones exchange their notes on the scene, adding to the unseen chorus effecting them all, not just these ones so engaged…

So struck w these hidden impulses, both Snarly and Growler - the spirit-names the masters have bestowed for the moment - forever it is with their fellow ghosts, these timeless movers of souls do converse - they had aimed their own grumps at each other as this prolonged entrance had transpired, sinking them further into their shared ugly state.

<<::>>

After their exchanges w Darth and Gandalf, after their joint efforts to let go and recall the higher purpose of this venture, they had settled into their newly made zone.

<<::>>

Now, startled from the serenity they had finally achieved, further shocked to find themselves snuggled close after having revealed so much about themselves, they recoil - another aspect of themselves shamelessly revealed to each other. And more - they are suddenly hyper aware of a new sensation - of these very same spirits they now share face-to-face filling the packed car all around them - and yet another, like a presence creeping in - panic…

Straining as one to see through the mob - now a scream - turning together she grabs his arm “my god, what is happening?!”

“Do you feel it or is just me - that things are really ok, but there is definitely something in the air - making all of us react strangely.”

“yes, look at how we drew so close while asleep - I was so angry - as were you - but you are right, that’s not like me, and I suspect not like you - but that was a scream - someone really sounded scared.”

“There is a commotion near us - look, the people are pushing - no being pushed…”

Trusting themselves to act together, unspoken they rise - she all the way up as she is on the outside, shoving back against the onslaught - he wrapping his arm around her waste, lifting himself close next her - pausing to collect himself - finding his strongest, most calming voice - “make way for us”

inspired - she invokes her most positive forceful tone “Happy Thanksgiving - we are standing up!”